


Cliffside

by Rarepair_Debonair



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28335849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rarepair_Debonair/pseuds/Rarepair_Debonair
Summary: Eunoia Short had trudged through two hours of chilling December rain with nothing but the Neutrino at her holster and her dad’s hand-me-down winter coat to warm her, but she found the old cottage all the same.---In the year 2100, the daughter of Holly Short and Artemis Fowl II comes home for the holidays. An unabashed Hartemis love story. Two-Shot! Second chapter coming real soon!
Relationships: Artemis Fowl II/Holly Short
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21
Collections: Elf on the Shelf 2020: A Spark Of Decency Server Celebration





	Cliffside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fandom_food_bank](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_food_bank/gifts).



Eunoia Short had trudged through two hours of chilling December rain with nothing but the Neutrino at her holster and her dad’s hand-me-down winter coat to warm her, but she found the old cottage all the same. She was shivering now, cursing about budget cuts and how they’d stopped producing the standard issue, military grade, state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line, complementary Lower-Elements-Police-in-partnership-with-Holovision’s-Pip-&-Skip umbrellas this year, all the while also making some very obscene hand gestures that seemed to involve pulling at a centaur’s horns, a jar of peanut butter, and her fists. Teeth chattering, she gave the one-story house a quick once-over, pulled out her key, and barreled inside, nearly tripping over the threshold.

Inside, the common room had been decorated with all the usual Christmas fair and bombast for her family. There were hand-knit stockings for various shapes and species hanging above the blazing hearth, enchanted garlands and wreaths from the Lower Elements bristling and sparkling with golden globs of energy, and of course, her parents’ pride and joy- the Evergreen tree. Felled long ago somewhere in the Tibradden Wood (with the tree’s express permission of course), the family Evergreen was a beautiful mix of fairy magic and her dad’s technological genius. The tree’s branches had been enchanted to change color and sprout newer branches in case there wasn’t enough space for ornaments. This year, the tree was decorated with the old robotic miniatures her dad had built, re-enacting scenes from the past- memories both heroic and homey. There was her mum and dad holding hands off the coast of a rapidly sinking Hybras, the near-apocalypse of ’50 which had brought her dad out of retirement, that first time she almost burned the house down attempting to bake brownies, that seventh time she almost burned the house down attempting to bake brownies, and a little over a dozen more. And all of this without a single plug or socket. She’d like to see Uncle Foaly top that.

Hanging her coat on the rack beside the door, Eunoia couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. She hadn’t told anyone that she’d be visiting today. Partly because she wanted it to be a surprise, but mostly, truthfully, 99 percently, because she felt guilty- she hadn’t called or messaged in nearly two months. She’d be forgiven, right? Wasn’t it a good thing that she was so dedicated to her work? Hadn’t her mum always gone on about the importance of duty and serving the People? And, really, didn’t everyone under the earth know about how much of a workhorse Captain Kelp was, what with all his pontifications about protocol and paperwork? It was unavoidable. Incontrovertible. She wasn’t a bad daughter or anything. Nope. Never. Definitely not that.

She was relieved to see there wasn’t anyone else in the common room. She really needed a few minutes to make sure she looked proper. She took off her holster and crouched by the fireplace, palms up so she could really soak in the heat. Eunoia felt her breathing slowing down, her body untensing and relaxing as she rested by the hearthside.

_Artemis heaved a sigh as he topped up the last layer of the hearth with his trowel. He stood up, looked around the common room, and puffed his chest up significantly. It had taken some ten years of secret, off-again, on-again labour but they’d finally done it. A small patch of earth for just the two of them._

_He left the common room and wandered into the yard they’d managed to carve out back. Holly was sitting in a lawn chair, her face a knot of consternation as she read through an old Irish novel. She looked up from her book when Artemis took the chair beside her. She smiled, her face lighted by moon and lamplight._

_“Done with the hearth now, are we?” she said, turning towards him._

_“No thanks to you,” he said._

_“Oh please. Do you see that entire east wall over there? I had to be the one to do all that, thank you very much. I had to use a step-ladder and everything!”_

_“To be fair, I was being held captive by demon cultists at the time.”_

_“Tut, tut, tut. I distinctly remember a certain Mud Man telling me: ‘Come hell or high water, every year, December 26th to 30th, same time, same place- we build our home together.’”_

_“Mmm, yes,” agreed Artemis. “I should count myself lucky then that a certain Ambassador summoned half the LEP armada to rescue me just so I could make it to the last day of building that year.”_

_“You should.”_

_“I do.”_

_The two of them were smiling now and their hands found each other, fingers intertwining in what were now all too familiar spaces. The night sky yawned above them, revealing stars and a full moon within the vast darkness._

_“Any ideas on what we should do about furniture?”_

_“Oh I’ve already accounted for that. I’ve arranged for some deliverymen to drop off a few items a few clicks south of here.”_

_Holly groaned at the thought. “Does that mean we need carry them all the way here?”_

_“I’m afraid so, love.”_

_Holly sighed. “The price we pay for living off the grid.”_

_“And for the view,” Artemis added. From their cliffside home, the remote Irish countryside unfurled in all its majesty. Miles and miles of mountain and forest settled and sat, filling their shared horizon. As they looked on, they allowed the sounds of the earth, wind, and wildlife to fill in the pause in their conversation. There was all the time in the world to talk. Less so to hold hands with someone you loved in the stillness of a winter’s night._

_Eventually, Holly looked at her dearest friend. And though she tried her best, though she told herself not to dwell on it, she couldn’t help but think familiar thoughts._

_Time had sunk its savage claws into Artemis. Fifty-three years of age now with silver hairs almost rivalling the raven black. His hands, while at a glance immaculate, bore the minute scars of over two dozen missions and adventures- scars only she ever took the time to see. Gone was the arrogant genius who carried himself with brazen superiority, instead Artemis seemed to have grown quieter over the years. He had done so much- seen so much. Too much, perhaps._

_“I’ll be alright,” said Artemis. Holly startled._

_“I’m sorry?” said Holly._

_“Come now, Holly,” said Artemis. “I think I know you well enough to recognize your ‘Gods Artemis is so old’ face.”_

_She was stunned. “I didn’t know I had one.”_

_“Ten years together would say otherwise,” said Artemis chuckling. “You’ve been pulling it a lot more often these past couple of years.”_

_“Can you blame me?”_

_“I don’t. I don’t,” he said. “But I need you to know that, whatever happens, I will be fine. I will have lived a good life. One of the best, in fact.” He looked at her then and his eyes spoke only of fondness._

_Minutes passed them by in silence._

_“I just thought…one day maybe you’d crack it,” she said finally._

_Artemis let out an old man’s sigh, weary and worn. “Immortality, it seems, is one riddle I may never unravel.”_

_Neither of them could muster any words after that. So there were none. But there were other things. There was the way Holly gripped Artemis’ hand after his admission, a grip so gentle yet so fierce it was as if she were trying to hold on to every atom of him. There was the warmth and the returned warmth of the hug they shared as tears began to stream down Holly’s face. There was the brush of arm against arm, as they washed the dishes of the pasta dinner Holly had concocted, and the small, patient smiles they exchanged because of that brush. There was the night where Holly stood shivering in the backyard, and she kept insisting she was fine, and Artemis ignored her and gave her his coat anyway, and he buttoned it up for her, and how everything was forgotten as they laid on the grass and looked at the stars. There was an Ella Fitzgerald CD, and “What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?”, and a sudden mad idea, and a slow, careful dance in the common room. And there was laughter._

It was the cuckoo clock that roused her awake. “Whozaire!?” slurred Eunoia, shooting up like a geyser and frantically trying (and failing) to enter an LEP-approved fighting stance. She scanned the room, only to find there still wasn’t anyone home. Weird. Rubbing her auburn bedhead (or to be more accurate rughead), Eunoia confirmed that it was midnight. How long had she been out? As she stretched her neck, arms, and shoulders, snapping them back into action, her stomach didn’t so much as growl but whine quite suddenly. She hoped there was something in the fridge.

She entered the kitchen, an odd choice for a traditional cottage to have as a separate room but one her parents had made as they didn’t need four bedrooms and the common room needed space for her dad’s piano. She found the fridge strangely barren, apart from a few bottles of sim-wine and some leafy greens. It wasn’t like her mum to be so low on supplies. She rummaged around the rest of the kitchen, eventually managing to cobble together a sandwich with a pack of King Crisps, some bread, and bit of lettuce. Could have used some butter. As she munched on her provisions, the image of her dad pulling that face because of her taste in snacks sprang to mind, and she couldn’t help but laugh. Dad never could let go of his French classics, could he?

No one in the common room and no one in the kitchen. That left her room, the master bedroom, and the backyard. She headed off to the search the rest of the house, sandwich in hand.

_“Mum? Why do we only come here during the holidays?” asked Eunoia._

_Holly looked up from the chopping board where she was just about to cut her daughter’s favorite sandwich into triangles. She placed the knife gently on the counter and turned to look at her._

_“Because it’s very far from mum and dad’s place of work my love,” she said, crouching to her daughter’s level and tickling the eight-year-old into a fit of giggles. Holly smile was as wide as the sun. Bless slower fairy aging; that meant at least four more years of this…then there would be the horror of puberty._

_“Muuuum! Stop!” And with acrobatic grace (which she definitely inherited from her father) she tumbled out of the way of her mum’s clutches. Holly laughed and turned back to the task at hand, finishing the sandwiches. She and Eunoia headed into the common room, sat on the couch, and each ate their share. As they ate, Eunoia couldn’t help but press her mother._

_“I think we should stay here all the time. It’s much better than Haven or Manhattan,” said Eunoia._

_“But how would mum get to the UN then, love?” said Holly._

_“You could fly! Or oh, oh, you could teach me how to fly a shuttle! Or Auntie Juliet’s jet!”_

_Holly laughed, bright and clear. She patted her daughter’s head and said, “One day my love. Plus, I don’t think you could reach the jet’s controls just yet.”_

_“Can too! Long as I’m on Auntie Juliet’s shoulders,” said Eunoia, sticking her tongue out afterwards._

_As Eunoia got up from the couch and headed to her room to get some of her toys, Holly reached for the solar-powered radio Artemis had made for her. The two of them had insisted that the cottage be screen-free, an arrangement they’d kept since the very first stone had been laid. Still, that meant getting any information from the outside world was a tad tricky. Finally, after much finagling, she found the station._

_“-So we’re agreed? The future looks better for us?” said Orson Prolix over the radio._

_“I’m not much of an optimist but, with a few caveats, yes, yes I would think so,” replied Foaly; Holly could practically hear the vigorous nodding. “There are of course things the People find very difficult to forgive and may never forgive. Our shared history had always been troubled-”_

_“That’s an understatement,” interrupted Artemis._

_“Two taps, Mud Man. That’s all I need to cut you off. Quicker than dwarf in a farting contest.”_

_“Of which I’m sure you have been the judge of many, old friend.”_

_What ensued was what those in the business liked to call “technical difficulties.” As the noise of Orson trying to bring civility back to his interview crackled in the background, Eunoia emerged from her room, toys-in-hand, and plonked herself down on the rug by the hearth. Holly joined her._

_“Is that the interview dad and Uncle Foaly are doing?” asked Eunoia, smashing a wooden train into her mother’s toy house._

_“Yes, love,” replied Holly, frowning and already beginning to piece the wooden blocks back together._

_“I want to listen!”_

_“Let’s hope the host manages to reign the two of them in then . Frond knows I’ve been trying for decades.”_

_Finally, after around two minutes, Artemis and Foaly simmered down and exchanged apologies. The host turned to Artemis, whose turn it now was to answer the question._

_“Mr. Foaly’s assessment is undoubtedly correct, the history of our two races is indeed troubled. But I believe we musn’t discount the progress we’ve made in just fifty short years,” began Artemis. “At the beginning of the century, fairies were a myth- a fiction. Seven years later, the Great-Techno Crash happens, and the truth is revealed for all. Less than ten years after that, the People and United Nations create a joint committee for the purposes of diplomacy and cooperation. And not even eight years ago it was Amadeus and Swift, a human and a sprite, who helped us avert the near apocalypse of ’50. Tell me Orson, have you ever heard of such a thing? From mythical creatures to recognized allies in less than twenty years? It’s unprecedented.”_

_“It is, it is,” replied the host. “And of course now we’ve begun to see human night schools in the United States accepting fairy applicants-”_

_“-not to mention the demon warlock No. 1’s viral Comic-con visit earlier this year-” added Foaly._

_“-or the Emperor of Japan’s recent trip to Atlantis,” concluded Artemis. “Allow me to be frank, all of you. I ran simulation after simulation years ago on what a possible reintegration between fairy and human society would look like. It’s a miracle we aren’t doing this broadcast in a bio-bomb shelter.”_

_There was a general murmur of assent._

_“When I think of how badly things could have turned out, I thank my lucky stars our two species chose peace,” said Orson._

_“Thank Holly Short, for being the best ambassador the People could have asked for,” replied Artemis. Inside the cottage, Eunoia flashes her mother a wide smile. She’s missing one of her front teeth. Laughter rings out from the cliffside._

_“Hear, hear,” said Foaly._

_“I’d like to thank my guests, LEP tech consultant Foaly for joining us from the Police Plaza Ops-Booth, and Artemis Fowl II, recipient of the 2008 Distinguished Friend of the People award, who comes to us live from his Bentley. For FBC Radio 5, this has been Orson Prolix. Happy holidays, everyone!” said Orson in closing._

_A little over an hour later, the two elves heard the smushing of shoes against the wet grass outside. Artemis bursted into the room, scarf around his neck, and a small stack of presents in one hand and his walking cane in the other. “Merry Christmas everyone!” he announced._

_“Dad!” shouted Eunoia. The girl ran pell-mell into her father, her arms spread for a hug, and she nearly knocks the old man off his feet. Chuckling, he sets aside his coat and the presents, and ruffles his child’s head. Holly kisses him in welcome, and he holds her by the threshold. When they’re done whispering a few items of business to each other, Artemis crouches down to his daughter’s level._

_“There’s my little Captain. Is the house safe?” said Artemis._

_“Affirmative,” said Eunoia pulling her infamously serious future-LEP-captain look._

_“No criminal dwarves burrowing in the ground?”_

_“Blown to bits with land mines.”_

_“No trolls coming for us?”_

_“None. But Uncle Butler’s mace is under my bed, just in case.”_

_“No bio-bombs out to explode us?”_

_“The launch codes are secured in my piggie bank.”_

_Artemis chuckled. “I knew I could count on you.” Artemis rose to his full height and turned to Holly. “So. Shall we prepare dinner?”_

_After dinner, when the dishes are all stacked away, and Holly is sitting by the fireplace, her legs folded to her chest, and a novel in hand, Artemis and Eunoia sit side-by-side on the piano bench. She is distracted by the little spots he has on his hands now and face now, which grew more numerous with each year. When he catches her staring, Artemis plays a quick note on the piano and brings her back to attention._

_He’s been giving her lessons since she was six, and these past two weeks they’ve been working on a piece Artemis hadn’t even attempted till he was 10. But he was a prodigious teacher, and Eunoia is pure magic on the piano. When he gains the sense that she can do it start to finish, he calls Holly to come over and see. She sets aside her book and takes a stool to watch._

_Eunoia plays “The Maid with Flaxen Hair.” Debussy rolls through the cottage, through its rooms, through its yard, from the cliff, and through the valley. Small golden orbs hang in the air, emitted by the wreaths and garlands from Haven. Artemis and Holly sit side-by-side, holdings hands as they watched their daughter play for them. Her eyes are closed. Not even 9 yet. And there she was._

_Artemis has timed it perfectly. When there are 40 seconds left to the song he rises from his chair, stands in front of Holly, and goes down on one knee. He reaches into his pocket and brings out a small box. When Eunoia finishes playing, she opens her eyes, and her mother has a golden band around one of her fingers. Holly is crying now and berating Artemis for being an idiot and doing this in front of their daughter. He looks to his daughter, his expression seeking approval, and she gives her dad a toothy grin._

_Later, as she watches Artemis play with Eunoia on the rug, it occurs to Holly why they came here every year for the holidays. Not Fowl Manor, or Haven, or their loft in New York but here by the cliffside. Because it was tradition- because it had become pleasantly involuntary; and because there was no where else, above or below the earth, where moments like these could happen._

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas fandom_food_bank! Hopefully this first chapter's up-to-snuff for the prompt you requested. Part 2 will be up real soon, I swear! 
> 
> Interested in joining a community of Hartemis shippers? Then please come and join us at a Spark of Decency on Discord! Link: https://discord.gg/MPbmPAJ8yn


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